


Three Years from Now

by anr



Series: Slow Burn + Three Years From Now [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-23
Updated: 2009-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anr/pseuds/anr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Someone said, count your blessings now 'fore they're long gone.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Years from Now

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS: 2010
> 
> SOUNDTRACK: "Who Knew" (Pink)
> 
> NOTES: This is the original 2003 "scene" from [Slow Burn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/562664).

"You know," he says, breathing hard, "I've dreamed of this."

She arches an eyebrow, her fingers gradually loosening on his shoulders, body relaxing against his.

"No, really," he insists. "I have."

"You've dreamt --" she pauses briefly as he carefully slides out of her, her breath catching, "-- of this?"

Is it really that hard to believe? He wonders if he should be insulted by her disbelief. "Well -- _yeah_."

"You've dreamt," she repeats dubiously, "of nailing me against the wall?"

"Janet!"

  


* * *

  


"You dropped me!"

Avoiding eye contact, he drinks his coffee. "I didn't mean to."

"But you _dropped_ me!"

"Hey," he protests. "Not my fault, okay? You startled me."

Across the table, Janet sits back in her chair and crosses her arms. "How?"

"You know," he says, waving a hand, "by saying... and with the..." Dropping his gaze, he studies his coffee intently.

" _You_ started that."

"I did not!" He looks up cautiously. "Start what?"

"You said you'd dreamt --"

"Of _this_ ," he interrupts. "Of being here -- with you -- with the war finally over and the chance for us to actually enjoy our time together a very real, very _definite_ , possibility."

"Oh."

  


* * *

  


"So nailing me against the wall? Not something you've dreamt of?"

He winces. "Can you _please_ stop saying it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like with... with... with hardware euphemisms!" He thumps his pillow and puts it back on the bed.

She laughs, tossing her pillow at him. "Daniel, please. You're thirty-nine years old and you speak twenty-four different languages. Surely you've heard --"

"Not," he says, holding up a finger, "from your mouth. And not," he helps her tuck in the sheet, "during -- I mean, whilst --"

"Screwing me?"

"Janet!"

  


* * *

  


"Wanna go to the movies?" They're in the living room, stretched out on the floor in front of the sofa with sections of the paper strewn all about them.

"Not in the mood. The beach?"

He watches her wrinkle her nose. "Cassie'll be home next week -- go with her."

"How's she liking England?" Leaning over, he steals a piece of chicken from her salad.

"She says it's wet," Janet answers, blindly slapping at his hand. "Eat your own lunch. Art gallery?"

"Pass." A thought occurs to him. "I know, what about the new Machu Picchu exhibit on at the museum..."

"Nothing work-related." She sighs and throws down her section of the paper. "This is hopeless. We have absolutely _nothing_ in common."

He raises an eyebrow.

  


* * *

  


"Okay, so we do have _this_ ," she amends breathlessly.

He runs his hand over her back and smiles. "Yeah."

"We should go back to Hawaii," she says, "that was nice."

He laughs. "You just wanna get lei'd again," he says teasingly.

She pushes herself up onto her elbows abruptly. "Now, see, that! How is that _any_ different from what I said?"

Groaning, he rolls over onto his back and drapes an arm across his eyes. "How's work?"

"It's quiet," she says, "and don't change the subject."

"I'm not," he says, pausing thoughtfully. He raises his arm. "Wanna go see a movie?"

  


* * *

  


"What happened to not being in the mood?"

Her hand is warm in his as they walk towards the nearest teleport, the street quiet and almost empty. "You convinced me otherwise."

"Right. So -- what do you want to see?"

"I don't care." He tries not to sound bored; they haven't even decided on a cinema yet, let alone bought their tickets. "I'm just here for the company."

He loves it when she smiles like that.

  


* * *

  


"I'm sorry," she says as they wait for their meals, "that was a terrible movie."

"What are you talking about? I thought it was great!"

She makes a face. "Oh, very funny."

"I'm serious! That girl with the rocket launcher? _Brilliant_."

"It was completely implausible! The characters alone were so utterly undeveloped I'm surprised the producers didn't just cast foetuses in the main roles."

He smirks, reaching for his water glass. "You're just pissed because that Jim guy died."

"I am not."

"Are too." He rambles incessantly about the film through the first and second courses and pauses only at dessert for her (hopefully revised) opinion. "Seriously, Jan. What do you think?"

"Seriously?" He nods. "I think we're doomed."

  


* * *

  


"If we're so doomed," he asks as they walk home, "then how come we've lasted over three years already?"

She shrugs. "Because for the past three years we've been so busy we've barely seen each other?"

"We've seen each other."

"Daniel," she says, her tone too patient to be anything other than slightly condescending, "I can count on _one hand_ the number of times we've spent more than forty-eight hours together."

He chuckles as he kisses the hand she's raised in emphasis. "But they were such _wonderful_ hours," he says.

She sighs and shakes her head; lets a small smile slip past her lips. "You're insatiable."

He grins. "It's something we have in common."

  


* * *

  


"Today was nice."

Sleepy, relaxed, he nods and presses his lips to her forehead. "Very nice."

"We should have more days like this."

"Yeah." He yawns as she shifts against him, settling herself into a more comfortable position.

Silence drifts around them; he slips towards sleep.

"But I still can't believe you dropped me."

  


* * *

The End

**Author's Note:**

> ORIGINAL URL: <http://anr.livejournal.com/343924.html>


End file.
